


the sound of i need you

by smokeinsummerrain



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: F/M, but in reality paxton is just dumb, implied devi/ben, please be kind to him he's trying his besttt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24272218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smokeinsummerrain/pseuds/smokeinsummerrain
Summary: "You're in a mood," Becca observes, trailing after him. "Did something happen at school?"Paxton doesn't answer as he yanks open the door of the refrigerator impatiently. "What makes you think something happened?""Is this about..?" Becca trails off, shooting him a meaningful look.He gives her a warning glare. "No."or; In which Paxton is in desperate need of a tutor, and Devi is all too willing to volunteer for the position.
Relationships: Paxton Hall-Yoshida/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 33
Kudos: 187





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i edited this while rewatching atla, so sorry in advance for any mistakes there may be!

The bell rings, signaling the start of class, and Mr. Shapiro wastes no time in hushing his students, drawing all attention to himself. 

"Alright, we're going to start class today with me passing back last week's test on decolonization, and then we can go over some of the content if anyone has any questions." 

Paxton grimaces as Mr. Shapiro passes by him. He doesn't raise his eyes to look at his teacher, and Mr. Shapiro doesn't say anything as he places the graded test on his desk. He is mentally bracing himself for the fat 'F' that is sure to be scribbled at the top of his exam. A large part of him doesn't want to flip over the paper, knowing he is only going to be faced with the disappointment of yet another failing grade. Maybe it's his fault for not studying or trying harder, but it still _stings_ , knowing that people think he's stupid, and he's certainly not helping to prove them wrong. 

Behind him, he hears Ben bickering with Devi, trying to goad her test score out of her. Paxton tries to tune them out, he's not in the mood for their antics, but it's hard because they are so loud. They sit across from one another, there's no need to shout, but they do anyway, because it's not only about their rivalry, it's about showing off to the entire class how goddamn smart they are. Bragging about history test scores is stupid, and yet, Paxton feels his ear burn with embarrassment as Ben flexes his score of 92, knowing he himself probably scored a 63, at best.

Annoyed, Paxton shoves his test into the bottom of his bag without sparing it a second glance. He slouches back into his seat, folding his arms across his chest as Mr. Shapiro comes to stand at the front of the room.

"Alright," he grins and claps his hands together. "Overall, I'm very pleased with these latest test scores. You all are rockstars. Some of you could hit the books a little harder next time." His eyes pointedly slide to Paxton, and the teen looks away with an irritated huff. "But other than that, I'm feeling pretty optimistic about your upcoming midterms." 

On cue, the class lets out a collective groan, but Mr. Shapiro waves them off. 

"So, let's get into today's lesson..." 

Paxton chooses this precise moment to stop listening. 

Time moves slow to spite him. Paxton watches the clock torment him, forcing him to endure the longest and most boring hour of his life. When the bell finally rings, he wastes no time in slinging his bag over his shoulder and jumping from his seat. He begins to speed walk toward the door, hoping to avoid being intercepted by his teacher. But of course, this is not how things work out. He feels a large hand clamp down on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Mr. Shapiro's voice comes from directly behind him.

"Do you mind hanging back a minute, Paxton?"

Yes, he does mind. 

He forces a smile and turns around. "Of course not." 

Paxton watches as his classmates all file out of the room. On his way out of the door, Trent offers him a fist bump and a sympathetic _"Dude"_. Paxton watches his friend leave, slightly envious. He knows Trent had managed to convince a smaller kid to let him copy his answers, and if Paxton's moral compass was any smaller, he might have done the same. 

Devi is the last to leave the room. When she'd opened her bag, some loose papers had escaped and gone skidding across the floor. She was now in the process of hurriedly trying to collect them, but was only succeeding in kicking them further away from her. Paxton wonders bitterly where Ben is, and questions why he isn't helping her. He watches as she bumbles around, and there are like, five pieces of paper, why is she taking so long? 

Irritated, he stoops at the waist and snatches up a few sheets of paper that have made their way over to him. The top sheet is their latest test, and he's surprised to see an 89 circled in the right-hand corner. It's a good grade, he would be happy with it, but he knows she wouldn't be satisfied with a measly B+. The test score may be contributing to her increasingly frazzled state, because now she is on all fours, her back to him, frantically searching the ground for her missing papers.

He clears his throat loudly to catch her attention and calls her name. Her head whips around, and she pegs him with a wide eyed, confused stare. He waves the stack of papers he holds in his hand around in the air. He watches as comprehension overtakes her features. Devi scrambles to her feet and smooths down her skirt, before moving to stand in front of him.

"Thank you," she says, and he quickly shoves her papers into her arms. He is trying not to focus on the fact that these are the first words she has said to him in weeks. The first time they have even been face-to-face like this in so long. 

He swallows and does his best to speak around the lump forming in his throat. “Yeah. No problem.”

Her eyes remain fixated on his face. Nearly a dozen emotions flicker across her face within the span of a minute. Her rapidly changing expressions come and go too quickly for Paxton, and he's unable to get a grasp on her thoughts. Not that he wants to know what she thinks of him, knowing it would only be less than flattering. 

He breaks eye contact with her, turning his head to the side, hoping she will get the hint and leave. Devi seems conflicted, furrowing her eyebrows. She parts her lips as if to say something, but she must think better of it, because her mouth falls shut, pressing into a thin line. Wordlessly she grabs her bag and spins on her heel. As she leaves, her arm grazes his, and his fingers twitch at his side and it takes a great amount of willpower to stop himself from reaching out to grab her. Paxton watches the back of her retreating form, and is suddenly overcome with the strong urge to ram his fist into a wall. 

“So,” Mr Shapiro’s voice draws Paxton out of his head. “The Pax Man. How are you doing, bud?”

Paxton doesn’t even try to hide his disdain at Mr. Shapiro’s attempt to fit him with a new nickname. However, the way his features twist into a mask of disgust must go unnoticed by the older man as he presses on, delving into the reason he’s asked Paxton to remain after class. 

“So, let’s talk about that test grade. Did you see it?”

“I saw it,” Paxton lies, because he doesn’t have to look at the test to know that his results are abhorrent.

Mr. Shapiro nods his head somberly. “Yeah, so, obviously not too great. And uh, to be completely honest with you man, you can’t perform that poorly on the midterm, unless you want to risk failing this class again for the second year in a row.” 

Paxton feels his heart drop into the pit of his stomach at his teacher's words. “But it’s just a midterm,” he finds himself stating dumbly.

“And the midterm is worth about 50 percent of your semester grade. And if you fail the first semester, which you will if you don’t get your act together, I highly doubt your second semester grade will be high enough to get you a passing grade for the year. Now, I’m telling you this unsugarcoated because I don’t think you want to be sitting in this room again next year as a senior, surrounded by a bunch of sophomores. Do you want that?”

“No,” Paxton admits quietly. 

“Didn’t think so. Now, uh, I’m free after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, or you have the option of finding yourself a tutor, but I just really need to say that you’re putting in the effort.”

“I can find myself a tutor.”

“Good,” Mr. Shapiro claps him on the back. "You’re not a dumb kid, Paxton. All you have to do is put in the work.”

Paxton nods silently, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. 

The worry he carries with him all day must radiate off of his body in bright fluorescent waves, viewable for miles to come, because his sister is waiting for him, ready to pounce as soon as he enters his house. He barely even has time to kick his shoes off before she is bombarding him with a flurry of questions and hounding him for answers.

"Calm down," he murmurs, ignoring her inquiries. He tosses his car keys onto the coffee table and makes his way to the kitchen. "I haven't even been home for a minute and you're jumping down my throat." 

"You're in a mood," Becca observes, trailing after him. "Did something happen at school?" 

Paxton doesn't answer as he yanks open the door of the refrigerator impatiently. "What makes you think something happened?" 

He doesn't have to be looking at his sister to know she is rolling her eyes at him. "Because you nearly kicked down the door when you came home while cursing up a storm. You should probably watch your mouth, unless you want mom to hear you."

"I'll be sure to do that." 

Not finding anything to his liking in the refrigerator, Paxton's aggravation only grows. He slams the door shut, only for it to fly open again, and he lets out a frustrated cry.

"So, nothing happened?" Becca raises an unamused brow. 

"There's no food," Paxton mumbles.

"Is this about..?" Becca trails off, shooting him a meaningful look. 

He gives her a warning glare. _"No."_

"Okay, okay," she shakes her head. 

A beat of silence passes between them.

Softly he confesses, "I'm failing History."

Becca draws in a sharp breath. _"Again?"_

He doesn't say anything in response. He already feels like shit, and even though it's not intentional, the look his sister is giving him is only making it ten times worse. He definitely deserves the disappointed stare she is giving him, but it still hurts nevertheless.

"I'm going to go lay down before swim practice," he tells her. 

"Paxton, we should talk about this," Becca says, placing a hand on his arm. 

"Sure," he says noncommittally, shrugging her off. "Later."

He doesn't wait for her to reply, already storming off down the hallway, hoping the solitude of his room will take his mind off things. 

It doesn't work. Alone with his thoughts, Paxton spirals, his imagination uncharacteristically active as he pictures all the possibilities and implications that failing AP World History entails. 

He could drop out.

Get a job working as a cashier at a convenience store.

He'll probably be shafted with the night shift.

Maybe a kid will come in around 2 A.M., point a gun at his face with a shaky hand, and threaten to kill him if he doesn't hand over all the cash in the register. 

Paxton will nod slowly, doing his best not to make any sudden movements, making sure his hands are visible at all times so the kid doesn't get spooked and shoot. 

But of course, because his life has taken a turn for the worst, the robber will accidentally squeeze the trigger.

For the first time in his life, Paxton will be lucky, and the bullet will kill him instantly, and there will be no pain. 

And when the police scour his place, searching for evidence to see if the homicide was coincidental or personal, they will shake their heads and crinkle their noses in disgust at the sight that greets them. A dozen take-out cartons littering the floor, dirty laundry draped across the furniture, with no personal family photos to adorn the water-damaged walls of his cruddy studio apartment. The officers will pity the lonely and depressing life of the now dead, twenty-something 7-Eleven worker, wondering where it all went wrong for this poor kid. 

...

Okay, so.

There is a slight possibility he is overreacting. 

This scenario is on the extreme end of the spectrum, and most likely not going to happen, but Paxton is not exactly thinking rationally right now.

The bleak future he has dreamt up for himself plagues him relentlessly for the rest of the day, keeping him distracted and unable to perform his best at practice later on. The coach takes notice and Paxton is given a stern lecture about "getting his head outta his ass", and an even harsher punishment that leaves his lungs burning and his muscles aching. 

Practice ends and takes with it the stress of the day, as Paxton discovers there is nothing a good work out cannot cure. With his body relaxed and his mind now clear, he feels he may finally be able to process his predicament and come up with a solution. He decides that first thing tomorrow, he will swallow his pride and approach the smartest kids in his class and try to convince them to be his tutor. He will not be above begging, if it goes that far. 

As he exits the school building Paxton has to suppress a shiver as a particularly chill wind penetrates the thin fabric of his jacket. The sun has set, the air is crisp, and when he looks up, Devi is standing ten feet from him, pacing anxiously, and the sudden onslaught of déjà vu leaves him feeling dizzy. Her back is to him, but he's positive it's her, and he whips his head around frantically, trying to find an escape route. 

But then she turns around and spots him, and there is nowhere to hide. Their eyes lock and she smiles shyly and Paxton squares his shoulders and makes his way over to her. 

"Hi," she greets him tentatively. 

"Hey," Paxton says, deliberately avoiding her gaze. 

His eyes travel downward and he watches as she digs the toe of her shoe into the sidewalk, anxiously fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater. He thinks in this instant, she may be more nervous than the time she stood in this exact spot months ago, boldly propositioning him. 

This single thought causes the floodgates to open, and the memories from that time come flooding back, until his mind is drowning in them. He recalls the way she stammered out her words, unsure but hopeful, and he remembers he agreed, because realistically, what guy is going to turn down free sex? And then he got to know her, and it felt wrong, and he couldn't go through with it. The admiration in her eyes when she looked at him was real, and her feelings for him were sincere, and she was so messy and a little broken, and he couldn't help but think that if he went through with it, he would only be taking advantage of a girl, obviously already in a vulnerable state. 

So he innocently inserted himself into her life as a friend, and he'd never been so taken with a person so fast, because she was never anything but herself. Unapologetically goofy. Charmingly uncool. Unfairly adorable. And he remembers kissing her that night after the party in his car, overcome with the urge to feel her lips against his, and convey that he wasn't done with her. She kissed him back. She smiled and stumbled over her words, and he was so positive that she returned his affection. 

But that's where the fond memories end as Paxton refuses to dig up more recent events, knowing they will only leave him with a sour taste in his mouth.

"Did you need something?" He's trying not to be rude when he asks, but he also doesn't want to talk to her, and he's trying to let it be known. 

"I wanted to talk to you," she says, straightening her back and shedding her earlier anxieties. 

Paxton dangles his car keys in the air purposefully. "Can it wait? I've got to get home." 

Devi's brows narrow angrily. "Wait until when?"

He sighs, exasperated. "I don't know. It's not a good time right now."

"And when will it be a good time? You've been ignoring my texts and avoiding me for weeks, Paxton."

"Look, Devi, I don't want to have this conversation with you right now." Or ever, really. "I'm failing History and I need to find a tutor, so unless you're here to recommend one to me, I don't see a point in this conversation." 

All at once, the fire in her eyes is snuffed out at his words. When she speaks again, the previous sharpness in her tone is missing. "You're failing History?"

"For the second year in a row," he adds.

Devi goes quiet, and Paxton doesn't know if he's ever seen her rendered speechless. She always manages to string a sentence together in her most flustered of times, even if the meaning of her words is incoherent. 

He doesn't even know why he's told her this. It isn't any of her business, they're not even friends anymore, there's no need to keep her updated on his personal affairs. Especially when it only proves her mother's claims that he's stupid, and Devi is probably starting to agree, if she hadn't already before. 

The silence between them grows uncomfortable quickly, and Paxton, fed up, breaks it. 

"Forget I said anything," he says. "I'm going home." 

"Wait!" Devi jumps in front of him, hindering his progress forward. She takes hold of his wrists, maybe to keep him there, but doesn't realize he could easily wriggle out of her weak grasp. He doesn't, but he could. "What if I tutor you?" 

Paxton stares at her dumbly, unresponsive. Taking his silence as her cue to keep talking, Devi continues. 

"We can study where you want, your house or mine. I have an A in the class, so you don't have to worry that I'm clueless. I'll even help for free, you don't have to pay me."

Her last sentence rouses his suspicion.

"Why would you help me for free after I-?" _Treated you like the plague and refused to talk to you for weeks?_

The end of his question hangs between them unsaid, but known.

"Don't think I'm not mad at you, because I'm pissed." Devi folds her arms across her chest. "But I know you're struggling, and I can help. Also, if I'm your tutor, you can't exactly avoid me." 

Paxton doesn't speak and Devi sighs.

"Look, I know we're in a really weird space right now. But what I don't know is why. What happened, Paxton? Why did you change your mind about me?" 

Her eyes roam his face, searching desperately for an answer he won't give her. Her eyes are big and watery and her shoulders are hunched and she seems so small and scared, and he did this to her. But he's also terrified, and she can't seem to understand that, and he can't explain it, so it's apparent that they are stuck at this impasse. 

After a minute passes without a reply from Paxton, Devi shakes her head, taking a step back. And all he wants to do is grab her hand and pull her into his chest and hold her there forever. But he won't, because she's not his, and that's a line he refuses to cross. 

"Nevermind," Devi says to him. "Forget it." 

He sighs, loudly, and Devi pauses. 

"I really don't understand why you would want to help me right now," Paxton says, and he's embarrassed because of how mature she is being, and how he has only acted like a petulant child for so long. "But I'm not exactly in a position to turn away such a generous offer from the smartest girl in our class." 

Devi's eyes light up at his words, and she ducks her head, but it's not meaningless flattery, because they both know it's true, so he doesn't understand why she's acting so shy suddenly.

"So, I would really appreciate it if you would be my tutor." 

Devi lifts her chin, and says cheekily, "And I would appreciate it if you would sit down and have a normal conversation with me." 

A grin spreads across his face and he shakes his head, because it's kind of crazy how much he's missed her sass. And she's right, a proper conversation has been long overdue between them. 

"We can talk about anything you want if you can help me get at least a C+ on the midterm." 

Devi lifts her brows. "You have low standards." 

Paxton shrugs because even a C+ may be setting his expectations too high, but with her help, he's hoping a good grade will be within the realm of possibility. 

Devi smiles at him. "Deal." She sticks her hand out in front of her. 

Paxton straightens his back and feigns professionalism as he grips her hand firmly and shakes it. "A pleasure to be working with you."

"May this business venture be fruitful for the both of us," Devi replies. 

"Here's hoping this is the start of a beautiful partnership," he says, and he means it.


	2. Chapter 2

Because he is a gentleman and the streetlights have quickly become the only source of light, Paxton offers Devi a ride home. She thanks him, only a little flustered, but declines his offer, gesturing to her scooter that is laying a few feet away. They live in a relatively safe neighborhood with a low crime rate, but he's still allowed to worry.

Devi leaves first upon his insistence. Paxton watches her retreating figure carefully and climbs into his car only after she's entirely out of his line of sight.. He rests his hands on the steering wheel and takes a deep breath. His thoughts are on the fritz. Paxton is secretly glad that Devi decided not to take him up on his offer to drive her home. He doesn't waste time worrying about it though and starts the car. He fears that if he doesn't start driving now, he won't be able to soon, too busy being preoccupied with never-ending thoughts of her. 

When Paxton gets home, his phone comes to life, buzzing obnoxiously in his back pocket. He fishes it out as Becca arrives at the front door to greet him.

"You're late," she points out.

Paxton lifts a brow. "I don't have a curfew?" It is meant to be a definite statement, but comes out as a confused question.

"You're twenty minutes late," Becca says simply. "It's never taken you this long to drive home after practice."

Paxton grins and shakes his head. "Wow, stalker much? It's kinda creepy how much you track my movements, Becca." 

His sister huffs. "It's not creepy. You're just boring and predictable." 

He feels his jaw hit the floor. He has been called many things. Devilishly handsome, breathtakingly gorgeous, highly attractive. But never in his life has Paxton Hall-Yoshida been accused of being _boring_ and _predictable_. And he knows his sister likes to mess with him, but wow, this is a devastating blow to his ego. 

"I am not boring," he says firmly. "Or predictable." 

"Oh, yeah?" Becca narrows her eyes at him. 

"Yeah," he says indignantly. 

"I'll prove to you right now just how predictable you are." 

Before Paxton even has time to react, Becca is lunging forward and snatching his phone out of his hand, and racing off into the kitchen. 

"Hey! Give me my phone back you little brat!" He shouts but he's not angry. In fact, he's suppressing his own laughter at his sister's antics. He chases after her. 

Becca has positioned herself on the opposite side of the kitchen, wisely putting the dining table between them. She has a perfect view of him, enabling her to see any move he may make. He respects her intelligence begrudgingly, and bides his time until he's able to make a grab for his phone. 

"You were looking at your phone when you walked through the door," Becca says. "So, I'm guessing someone texted you. And to prove that you are predictable, I'm going to unlock your phone, and I won't be surprised when I see it's a text from some random girl, asking if you want to hang out with her. And this will also prove that you're boring, because all the girls you date are basically interchangeable and one in the same."

Paxton feels a smirk begin to form, because there is one thing his sister hadn't thought of. "You don't know my passcode."

Becca clicks her tongue. "Uh, yes I do, because you're _predictable_." Becca stresses the word like it is the most obvious thing in the world and giggles. 

Paxton groans loudly. "Look, I didn't see who texted me, but this is a violation of my _rights_."

Becca doesn't reply, fingers busy typing in his passcode. She cheers triumphantly a second later, and he takes that as confirmation that she wasn't lying, and he is predictable, because he has never told anyone that his phone's password is his birthday, but now that he thinks about it, maybe it is a little on the nose. 

"Oh!" Becca exclaims, her eyes widening as she scans his screen. Paxton's head snaps up, alarmed and a little frightened at what she may have found. 

"What?" He asks, somewhat nervous, because for all he knows, his sister is simply messing with him, but he can't be too sure. 

Becca meets his eyes accusingly, but when she speaks, she's smiling widely. "Why didn't you tell me you were talking to Devi again?" 

"What?"

"Devi!" Becca grins at him. She slides his phone across the table to him, and his eyes scan his most recent message. 

_'hey! we forgot to schedule a time to meet up, so i was wondering if tomorrow after school was good? i'm okay with any location. your bedroom. my bedroom. ;) that's a joke btw, lol. just let me know!'_

"Your bedroom. My bedroom," Becca says. "Sounds like things are heating up, huh?"

Paxton does his best to will away the blush beginning to form on his cheeks and rolls his eyes. "Calm down, it's not like that. Devi's just messing around."

"Uh-huh." She doesn't sound even a little convinced. "So, why are you meeting up with Devi then?"

Paxton tilts his head back, and focuses on the ceiling of the kitchen. "Devi's uh, going to be my tutor for History."

He is deliberately not looking at Becca so he doesn't have to bear witness to her reaction.

"That's great! She's kind of weird-", a lot weird, "-but she's also super smart, right? How did you even have time to ask her? Oh my God, is that why you were late coming home?" 

"Yeah-."

"Wait! I thought you guys were caught up in this really weird fight? Did you two make up?" 

Paxton clears his throat and says awkwardly, "I don't know if I would call it a fight necessarily."

"Then what would you call it?"

 _I would call it, I'm an idiot_ , Paxton thinks to himself bitterly.

"Nothing," Paxton sighs, finally lowering his eyes to meet her gaze.

Becca offers him a small smile and changes the subject. "Well, even though you are a little predictable, you've successfully proven that you're not completely boring."

"Shut up," Paxton laughs, swiping at her from across the table. 

* * *

The next day at school, Devi approaches him at his locker. 

"Good morning," she chirps brightly.

He takes in her appearance. Rumpled clothing, mismatched socks, helplessly tangled hair. Tired eyes, sagging shoulders, wary smile. He doesn't know why this causes bile to rise in the back of his throat.

"I don't think you've had such a good morning," he comments dryly. 

Devi's exhaustion quickly bleeds into embarrassment. She does her best to smooth down her clothes and comb her fingers through her hair, but her efforts are futile, because if anything, she only looks more of a mess. 

"Um, it was a late night," Devi finally says sheepishly.

"I bet," Paxton nods, unable to keep the snark out of his voice. "Hot date with Gross?" 

Devi's brows crinkle in confusion. "No. I was up all night preparing everything for our study session today." 

"Oh."

He's such a fucking jerk.

Awkward silence falls over them.

"Sorry," he murmurs. 

"Um, it's okay." Devi expertly steers the conversation in a new direction, adjusting the bag slung over her shoulder. "So," she prompts. "You never answered me last night. Where do you want to study?" 

Paxton mulls it over. He's never been inside Devi's house, but considering her mom is decidedly not a member of the Paxton fan club, he's not even sure he wants to set a single toe through the door. 

His house doesn't seem like an appropriate alternative either. He can imagine them studying in his room, a dozen papers strewn across the bed. He can imagine Devi speaking, overflowing with knowledge and eager to share with him. He can imagine himself zoning out, eyes drawn to her lips. He can imagine a faint blush crawling across her cheeks, as she realizes he's staring at her mouth, but she'll pretend she doesn't notice and chide him for not listening. He can imagine cutting her off with a chaste kiss. He can imagine pulling back, searching her eyes for permission and being met with a soft smile and a dazed look. He can imagine diving back in, desperate for the taste of her lips on his tongue, and the feel of her body melting into his and-.

Paxton pulls himself from his fantasy before it goes any further, clearing his throat. 

"Um, we could study in the library," he offers. 

"Oh!" Devi nods in agreement. "That's a good idea. You'll probably be more productive in a more structured environment anyway. And there are more resources available in the library." 

"Yeah," Paxton says slowly. "I was thinking the same thing."

"Good idea," she praises, beaming at him. 

Paxton feels his face flush. "Yeah so, I've gotta go find my coach before the bell rings, so I'll see you later, Devi."

Devi flashes finger guns at him. "Catch ya later, Pax Attack."

Paxton shakes his head. "Er, you might want to work on that nickname."

She winces and nods. "Noted."

* * *

Devi is already waiting for him in the library, and does not look amused when he finally arrives ten minutes late. Sheepishly, he slides into the chair across from her, trying to put as much distance between them as possible, because if he were to sit right next to her, the chances are high he might do something extremely impulsive. 

Devi is all business and sass when she speaks. 

"I can see you're taking this very seriously."

Paxton bows his head guiltily. "Sorry. I would have been here sooner but Trent needed me for something."

Which isn't a total lie. Trent did need advice on "the ladies" and Paxton was dubbed the man with the most expertise. But, Trent's question was quick and stupid, and it was all Paxton could do to keep from strangling him when Trent suggested that lavender scented deodorant was an appropriate gift for a girl. 

_"But she's like, super athletic, dude. She's the star of the tennis team!"_

_Paxton pegs him with an incredulous stare, because his friend cannot possibly be serious. "That doesn't mean she'll want some guy buying her deodorant."_

_"But why not?" Trent demands, frustrated. "It's practical and thoughtful."_

_"She'll punch you."_

_"But why?"_

_Paxton shakes his head and walks away._

Truth be told, he spent a good seven minutes pacing in the hall outside of the library, inciting more than a few curious stares in his direction.

He's nervous about being so close to her after weeks of ensuring that she'd never get the opportunity to approach him. 

He's nervous that she'll bring it up after they've spent an absurdly long time poring over textbooks and making flashcards. 

And he's especially nervous that once they get started and she sees how little he knows about AP World History, she won't be interested in him at all.

But, Devi doesn't need to know all of that. 

Devi rolls her eyes, but she's smiling faintly. "Okay. First order of business. Turn your phone off and give it to me."

Paxton's hand flies to where his phone rests in his back pocket. "Seriously?" 

"Seriously. I don't want you to be distracted by anything. And as an act of solidarity, I'll turn mine off too." 

Paxton has no doubt that the biggest distraction of all will definitely prove to be her, but he complies easily and after shutting off his phone, places it in her outstretched hand. 

"Excellent," Devi nods approvingly. "I'm going to put your phone in my bag if that's okay with you."

"Go ahead."

After she is finished putting their phones away, nestled safely in the front pocket of her book bag, she slams a huge, at least three inch thick binder stuffed with a gazillion papers onto the table. Paxton gazes at with wide, fearful eyes as Devi pats it fondly. 

"I spent all night organizing this," she states proudly.

He grimaces. "Devi, you did not have to do all that. Really." 

Devi laughs at his reaction. "Don't worry. This is more for my benefit than yours, just so I know what to cover with you. I was serious about helping you get a good grade on the midterm."

Paxton's shoulders sag with relief. 

"So," Devi begins, flipping open her binder. "Where do you think you're struggling most? MCQ's, SAQ's, DBQ's, or LEQ's?"

He swallows. "Um. All of it? Anything with writing is a little more difficult, but yeah."

Devi hums thoughtfully and continues rifling through papers. "Okay. Personally, I also think the essay questions are a little more complex, so we can begin there. Do you think you're struggling more with the subject material or applying your knowledge into a cohesive argument?"

"I don't know," Paxton groans, because already, he feels the familiar wave of anxiety and indecisiveness that rushes over him whenever he's taking a test.

"That's okay." Devi smiles at him encouragingly. "Do you have your old tests with you?"

Paxton nods.

"We can start there."

They spend two hours together in the library after school that day, half of it spent with Devi mulling over all of the returned tests he'd given her. Paxton shifts in his seat restlessly, because she hasn't given him anything to study, and she's also revoked his phone privileges. But mostly he's antsy because there's only one test in the pile that he'd gotten a B- on, two, maybe three C's, and the rest are low D's and a couple F's. And she, arguably the smartest girl in the class, is now looking at his piss poor essays and reading them intently. 

Occasionally, she will mutter under her breath, and he's not sure if he's supposed to be paying attention, listening for potentially valuable advice.

_"That's not the year Constantine came into power. Never write dates unless you're absolutely positive. Points aren't rewarded for a correct date, but are deducted for an incorrect one."_

Or:

_"Your argument was getting there, but you ran out of time. Don't worry about erasing or trying to spell things correctly. Cross things out. The person who grades your exam will skip over it, they have hundreds of other tests to grade and they're trying not to waste time. Get as close to the spelling of a word as possible and don't sweat it. Most likely someone will know what you mean."_

And: 

_"There was no point in name dropping Seward's Folly on the imperialism essay, because you never connected it back to the main argument. Don't waste time mentioning events if they don't contribute to the central idea."_

Helpful tips like this that only aid in crushing his confidence and self-esteem. She means well though. And she is right. 

After she's finished reading all of his essays, Devi slips into the seat next to him and their shoulders brush. Paxton forgets how to breathe for two seconds. 

"Okay, I think we should go over them together now that I've gotten a grasp of your writing capabilities, and I can point out where and why you went wrong."

And so they spend another hour going over writing Paxton would have been very fine with never rereading.

Everytime he notices a misspelled word he feels the tips of his ears catch fire. 

More than once, he finds that he's mixed up timelines and dates, and he's embarrassed. 

For every essay that doesn't have a coherent thesis or line of reasoning he wants to curl up into a ball and quit school entirely. 

"Overall," Devi says once they've made it through his third LEQ, and seventh piece of writing in total. "It's not bad. But you're clearly struggling with taking a stance on the prompt, and the indecisiveness is reflected in your poor evidence and backing. You can't defend an argument you don't have."

Paxton nods. "Okay. So. How do I fix that?"

"Well, it's clear to me you don't really have a problem with the actual course material. Occasionally you can get confused with dates or times periods, but I think that's mostly because you get in your head too much. I can help with test taking strategies and ways to combat nerves next time."

Devi glances at the clock nestled in the wall opposite of them. 

"I actually have to go. I told my cousin I would go shopping with her today." She shrugs apologetically at him. "Sorry."

Paxton waves her off. "No worries. We can pick this up again tomorrow?"

"Sure!" Devi agrees enthusiastically, but quickly becomes sheepish and meek. "Also. Would you mind giving me a ride?" 

Paxton lifts a brow. "Am I your chauffeur now?"

Devi purses her lips. "Weeeell," she drawls, "I am tutoring you for free."

Paxton shakes his head, smiling fondly. "Sure. Grab your stuff, let's go."

On the way to her house, they lapse into silence. Devi'd asked permission to keep his tests overnight so that she could read them over and add her own notes. Paxton doesn't want them, so there really is no inner turmoil in handing them over to Devi. She spends the car ride flipping through them, and he spends the drive focused on the road.

When they come to a stop in front of her house, she doesn't even notice. 

Paxton clears his throat and Devi lifts her head. 

He smiles playfully at her. "We have arrived at your destination, m'lady." 

She goes along with it, bowing her head in gratitude. "Why, thank you, good sir."

They share a laugh as Devi packs away her belongings, and he expects her to exit the car, but she doesn't. She catches her lower lip in her teeth and glances at him warily. Paxton suddenly feels uneasy and more than a little nauseous with the look she is giving him. 

"Something wrong?" He's doing his best to keep his voice steady, ignoring the hammering of his heart in his chest. 

"Yeah," Devi says slowly. "Earlier… Why did you make that comment about me and Ben?"

He feigns ignorance. "I don't remember saying anything."

"Don't lie."

He wilts under her steely gaze.

"Why would I be on a date with Ben?"

His knuckles become white with how tightly he is gripping the steering wheel. "Why wouldn't you be on a date with Ben?" He challenges.

Devi's brows furrow and her tone is exasperated. "You're not making any sense. Stop talking in circles, it's a simple question."

"You're the one playing dumb!" Paxton accuses. "Why wouldn't you be on a date with your boyfriend?!"

" _Boyfriend?!_ " Devi shrieks loudly in his ear. "I am not dating Ben Gross! That's _gross_!"

Paxton nearly gives himself whiplash with how quickly he turns his head to stare at her, flabbergasted. "What do you mean you're not dating him?!"

"Why would you think I'm dating him?!"

"Because you kissed him!"

"Oh my God, Paxton, that doesn't mean I'm contractually obligated to date him!"

"But I mean!" Paxton gestures wildly with his hands, increasingly flustered as he comes to terms with the fact that he had apparently been avoiding Devi for _absolutely no fucking reason_. "He's been all over you at school!"

"We're friends!" Devi cries.

"I mean-! He-! You!" Paxton stammers gracelessly. 

Their screaming competition comes to an end when Paxton fails to string together a coherent sentence. They stare at each other. Devi's eyes are wide, and her expression is caught between disbelief and disgust. He ducks his head shamefully and wants to scream, because how much of an idiot can he be? 

She breaks the silence. 

"You're so _annoying_." Devi says, but she's trying to smother a laugh threatening to bubble over. "I can't believe you thought I was dating Ben." She sticks her tongue out and makes a gagging noise. 

Paxton has nothing to say in response, because he's fucking dumb and mortified and how could he be so wrong about something so important? 

Devi's laughter cuts off abruptly and she sucks in a sharp breath. Realization brightens her eyes. "Oh my-. Is this why you've been avoiding me?"

It would be so easy to fling open the car door and throw his body into the middle of the street to await his fate. 

The girl in his passenger seat is suddenly very confused. He can practically see the gears shifting in her head, spinning so fast that they're on the verge of malfunctioning. "That doesn't even make sense."

It makes perfect sense. 

"I like you, Devi."

Her lips part to form a perfect 'o' shape. "You like me?" She asks unsurely. 

"I like you," he confirms, shooting her a reassuring grin. 

"You like me?" She's smiling dreamily at him now. 

Paxton leans over the center console, bringing their faces closer together. "I like you." He's close enough that his breath moves loose strands of her hair. 

"I-." Devi pauses, smile dissolving into a frown, and Paxton feels his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. 

"I'm mad at you!" She exclaims, hand flying out to whack him on the shoulder. He flinches more out of shock than hurt and leans back into his seat. "How could you avoid me over something so _stupid_?!" Her voice is soft and her shoulders hunch when she speaks again. "Why couldn't you just talk to me?" 

Paxton draws in his next breath slowly, contemplating his words carefully. He's never been the best at articulating himself, almost always complicating matters with poorly chosen phrasing resulting in misconstrued meanings. 

"Your mom thinks I'm stupid," he says slowly. 

Devi cringes. "She was just stressed and-."

"She was right," Paxton admits. "And I guess it just made me wonder if you thought the same thing. I'm not… good at school, like you or Ben. Honestly, I wanted to be with you. But, after that run in with your mom, I started questioning whether you would even want to be with someone like me.

"So I iced you out for a while. Which is wrong, I realize that, but it's so much easier to reject someone than to be the one rejected. Becca eventually called me out on being an idiot, but by the time I decided I was going to tell you how I felt, you had already moved on. Or so I thought. I guess that's my fault for jumping to conclusions."

He pauses, waiting to see if Devi wants to chime in, but she remains silent. 

"So, uh, I guess the moral of the story is that I'm an idiot."

She still doesn't say anything. 

"Look, I really thought you dating Ben would be for the better. I mean, he's smart in a super annoying jackass way. So like, you two could have steamy and intellectually stimulating conversations about scales triangles, or whatever turns nerds like him on." 

Devi breaks into a small giggle. "I don't think scales triangles turn anyone on."

Paxton feels relief as her laughter reaches his ears. "Hey," he says jokingly, "who are we to judge a nerd's sexual perversions?"

Devi continues laughing to herself, and Paxton feels warmth spread throughout his chest watching her. Her eyes are scrunched shut and she's leaving forward in her seat, and it's hard not to notice the way the sunlight glints off her hair and-. 

She glances up and catches him staring. Her laughter subsides as she reaches out to take his hand in hers. He hopes his palms aren't sweaty.

"You can talk to me about anything. And I don't think you're stupid."

"I think I'm stupid," he admits softly. 

Her fingers tighten around his. "You're not. Reading your essays, I can tell. You struggle to recall specifics and put it down on paper in a clear and concise way, but I can tell you understand everything we're being taught. You're not stupid. And to circle back to what you were saying earlier, I like you too."

"I know," he grins cheekily at her. "You made it very clear a few months ago when you cornered me in the parking lot after swim practice and demanded I have sex with you." 

Devi drops his hand and gapes at him. "I did not!"

"Ehh," Paxton shrugs. "You kinda did."

Her hand flies up, her intention to hit him for the second time that day, but he catches her before she's able to. He flips her arm over, and lowers his head to kiss the exposed skin on the inside of her wrist. Pride swells within his chest as he feels her pulse quicken, and affection explodes within his heart at the soft gasp she emits. 

"I-!" She squeaks.

"Yes?" He smirks at her.

"I gotta go!" Devi yells in his face. She forcefully pushes the passenger door of his car open, and throws herself onto the sidewalk. She lands with a heavy thud, and Paxton is ready to leap out after her to check that she's fine, but her head pops up not even two seconds later.

"I'm fine!" She shouts, frazzled and disoriented. 

Clumsily, she manages to retrieve her bag from his car, and murmurs a quick goodbye before she sprints across her yard into her house, slamming the front door behind her. 

Paxton smiles fondly to himself. 

* * *

A few weeks later, Paxton taps his pencil obnoxiously against his deck, and bounces his leg restlessly, waiting nervously for Mr. Shapiro to pass back his midterm.

"Don't worry," Devi says into his ear, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. "I know you did great."

Mr. Shapiro gives nothing away in his face as he places Paxton's test face down on his desk. He immediately rushes to flip it over, and feels Devi leaning into his back to get a better view. 

All the air leaves his lungs once he sees the grade circled in the upper right-hand corner. 

"OhmyGod!" Devi exclaims. "Paxton!" 

He feels her arms wrap tightly around his shoulders as she plants an adorably sloppy kiss on his cheeks. "You did so well!" 

And she's right. The 88% scribbled in bright red sharpie accompanied by a huge smiley face confirms it. 

"And you have your incredibly sexy and smart girlfriend to thank," Devi says smugly, because this grade is just as reflective of her work as it is his own. 

"Hell yeah I do," he twists around in his seat and places his hands on either side of her face. "And she's going to find out just how much I appreciate all her help."

"Hey. _Hey!_ No PDA in the classroom!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> also, with all of my school work finished and handed in, im bored out of my mind. so, im asking for devi and paxton prompts/requests! my tumblr is linked in my ao3 profile, so i would appreciate it if you could drop me an ask!! you can also leave prompts/requests in the comment section, but i'd prefer it if you could send it to my tumblr!!

**Author's Note:**

> as someone who vividly recalls taking ap world history, i have no idea why mr. shapiro was teaching about ww2 at the beginning of the school year?? lmao so im sorry if it seems wayyy early to be taking a decolonization test, but i have no clue what teaching schedule he's following.


End file.
